Winter is Here
by Goldenhand the Just
Summary: An AU of A Song of Ice and Fire. What if Stannis won the Iron Throne? The year is 380 A.C. 78 years after Stannis Baratheon took the Iron Throne. Stannis' great grandson, Arthor sits on the Iron Throne and has two twin sons, Olyvar and Desmond. While the lords of Westeros play the game of thrones, they forget the true enemy; winter, and winter is here.
1. Prologue

**Summary: **An AU of A Song of Ice and Fire. The year is 380 A.C. 78 years after Stannis Baratheon took the Iron Throne. Stannis' great grandson, Arthor Baratheon sits on the Iron Throne and is a good king, but has few trusted allies. He has two twin sons, Olyvar and Desmond, and is married to Sarra Tyrell. Due to him having twins and not naming an heir, tension builds between the brothers and alliances are made and friendships are broken, but the lords of Westeros must realize that winter is the true concern, and winter is here.

**Warning:** This will have spoilers from all the books of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series.

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Hey everyone! You can call me Goldenhand and I'm here to bring you my first ever fanfic! I'm a huge fan of ASOIAF and always wanted to make my own story in that world, so I wrote one! Like I said before, this is my first fanfic so please leave feedback, positive and negative are both very appreciated, as I would like to hone my craft and give readers an original story in a familiar world.

**Note: **This story will have detailed descriptions of violence, cursing, and sexual situations, so please, if you are not in a mature age group, do not read.

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**Disclaimer: **I do not own or claim ownership of any ideas, settings, or characters from George RR Martin's 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series.

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**Prologue**

The Wall was cold. Somehow colder than it ever was before. Rickon Seaworth was close to 50 years of age, had joined the Night's Watch five years ago, and had been commander of Icemark for three years now, abandoning his warm and loving wife and children for the chill and mercilessness of the Wall. Icemark was an ugly and bleak place, but it kept 300 Night's Watch brothers safe. Small round towers and black keeps made up the castle. The Commander's Tower was the tallest and slimmest of all the towers in Icemark, though it was still as unattractive as the others.

The sun was up, though hidden by clouds and looked to be setting soon. The mornings and nights were exceptionally cold, especially due to it being winter. Rickon had often woken up with icicles in his thick brown beard and an ice cold scalp that made him regret cutting all his hair off. Rickon thought of his old seat in Cape Wrath, and how it seemed to rain everyday. _I pray you've kept our children inside, Anya, winter is here. _As Rickon passed the training yard, he saw two tall boys that could only be the Umber bastards fighting with wooden swords, with the other nine Umber Bastards watching and cheering them on. As Rickon got closer, he saw that the boys fighting were Casper and Gilwood Snow. They were both tall for their age, and in a year or two would be taller than Rickon himself. Casper was five-and-ten with long dark brown hair that somehow seemed black. He had brown eyes and crooked teeth, and had a strong build. The boy lost the tip of his nose and his small finger due how cold it was on the Wall, but it was nothing compared to some of the older Night's Watch brothers who had lost whole arms and legs from the cold of the North. His half-brother Gilwood was four-and-ten, with shaggy light brown hair and brown eyes. He was the shortest and skinniest of all the older Umber bastards but he was still taller and stronger than most children his age. He had straight teeth and was the most clever of his brothers.

"Keep your shield up Gilwood!" Rickon told him, "Don't just aim for the head Casper! As long as Gilwood's shield is up, his head will stay on his shoulders." Casper took Rickon's advice and hit his brother in the leg. Gilwood fell on one knee and Casper's sword was pointing at his brother's throat.

"I yield brother! Don't come any closer, I've had enough of your rotten breath for one day." Gilwood japed, sending the nine brothers of his that were watching into tremendous laughter.

"I'd rather have rotten breath than a red smile from ear to ear." Casper said.

"Well said brother, I don't think I have ever heard you make a full sentence without you tripping over your tongue." Gilwood joked again, continuing the nine Umber bastards' laughter.

"Boys, get to training again, Casper, spar with Benfred, everyone else, find a partner and train with them as well. Gilwood, walk with me." Rickon told the Snows.

"Of course m'lord." Gilwood said as he caught up with Rickon, who was walking on the steps that led to the top of the Wall.

Rickon noticed that the Wall seemed to be weeping, more than usual, and it felt colder and colder with each step he took. Gilwood fumbled with his cloak and rubbed his arms, trying to keep himself warm. _He feels it too._

"It's very cold m'lord."

"Aye, it is."

"I heard you fought in the war, the one that Robyn Stark started."

"I did. I rode with King Arthor."

"You rode with him? Did you know him?"

"Him and I have been friends since we were 10, he's like a brother to me. We were both fostered at Storm's End for eight years. Once, when we were six-and-ten, there was this girl, a real beauty she was, a daughter of Lord Aurane Swann. So, Arthor and I both loved this girl, but we didn't know the other did. So I would sneak into her room one night, and Arthor would do the same another night. One night, both me and Arthor snuck off and found each other at her door. We got in an quarrel and it came to blows. I won, and I got to marry her.

"You fought the king and beat him?"

"I did, I did." The memory gave him joy, Anya could have married the king, but no, she chose Rickon. Rickon who came from a small house not even a century old, married the most beautiful woman in the world, at least in his eyes, and he betrayed her. He left her in the Stormlands with only their children to comfort her. He said their son Arthor was old enough to be a lord, yet Rickon still felt as if Anya never forgave him.

"And in the war, what battles did you fight in?" Gilwood asked.

"I fought in many battles, but the biggest ones I fought in were the Battle of the Blue Fork and the Battle at Moat Cailin."

"My father fought at Moat Cailin!"

"Aye he did, he killed fifty of our men, and he was lucky enough to get out alive."

"Of course he got out alive, he's a northman, not one of you soft southerners." Gilwood paused for a moment. "I meant no offense m'lord."

Rickon laughed. "No offense was taken."

Rickon's memories brought him to Moat Cailin, the three towered stronghold that was key to securing the North. It was the hour of the wolf, aptly named. Robyn Stark had crowned himself king two years before the battle, and got the River lords on his side. Robyn Stark's forces were in Moat Cailin preparing for an attack at any time. Arthor had went around the Neck, rather than go through it and have a quarter of his army poisoned and killed, though he ended up with the same result when almost 7,000 of his men were killed at the Battle of the Blue Fork. King Arthor's forces were west of Moat Cailin, while Robyn's brother, Brandon "Wolfsbane" Arryn, the only commander to beat Robyn Stark on the field, had his troops to the east. Arthor refused to wait for Brandon to attack Moat Cailin first, and charged against the fortified castle. Rickon remembered riding on his horse through the shower of arrows, seeing King Arthor surrounded by a hundred guards and the white knights of the Kingsguard: Ser Andrik Blackwood, Ser Lucas Bracken, Ser Kirth Swyft, Ser Jon Hunter, Ser Ryam Corbray, Ser Nestor Stokeworth, and Lord Commander Ser Maric Hightower. Of those seven knights, all would die at Moat Cailin. Men had screamed as arrows pierced the flesh of horses and men alike. Soldiers got stuck in the mud and were left to die. Rickon's horse had fallen within 3 minutes of the battle, and he had taken an arrow to the shoulder soon afterwards. He did not remember what happened after that, only waking up in his tent with a maester cleaning and bandaging his wounds, later finding out King Arthor had injured Robyn Stark and allowed him to bend the knee and keep his seat at Winterfell.

"M'lord? Are you alright?"

"Ye- Yes Gilwood, come, we're almost up."

Rickon got to the top of the Wall, feeling the cold of the wind, he did not even notice that the sun was already gone. Rickon looked over at the lands beyond the Wall. He had never gotten tired of the view, the rolling white hills, the snow capped trees, and the sharp ice-blue mountains in the distance.

"Gilwood, did Maester Lymond receive any news from Castle Black?"

"I don't know m'lord, I'm no steward, you'd have to ask Jarmen Pretty-Boy."

"Remind me tomorrow, it's dark, we shou-" _AwOoOoOoOoOoOo_. A horn boomed through the air. "One horn blast means rangers returning, did the Nightfort sen-" _AwOoOoOoOoOoOo_. Another boom. Rickon gripped the hilt of his longsword. "Ready your steel boy, wildlings will be no match fo-" _AwOoOoOoOoOoOo_. Rickon froze. He couldn't move a muscle. Rickon was not scared of many things, but this was different. _No, the Others can not pass the Wall, they can't._

"M'lo-, M'lord, it's just a mistake isn't it? It has to be, the Others are all dead."

"This is... this is no mistake boy, if they've got through the Wall your true brothers and our black brothers are as good as dead. As long as we're up here we'll be safe. We need to get to the Nightfort if we want to stay alive."

"My brot-, My brothers can't be dead, they can't, we need to go back and fight."

Rickon grabbed the boys shoulders and yelled, "Do you want to die and reawaken as a wight?! Go ahead and fight them boy! We can't kill them with normal steel, we need to get to the Nightfort!" Rickon looked into the boy's face who was staring at something behind Rickon, so he turned around and saw blue eyes looking into his brown ones.

_Fuck me. _"Run away boy, I'll hold him off as long as I can." Rickon unsheathed his long sword. The Other was walking towards Rickon now, with a blade made of blue ice that seemed to smoke.

"M'lord, you'll die!"

"You think I don't know that?! I've lived my life boy! You haven't! Now go!" Gilwood nodded with tears in his eyes and ran east towards the Nightfort, and Rickon said a short prayer for him to get there, and then he charged. As Rickon was running, he began to remember all the smiles anyone had ever given him, he remembered the laughter of his children, and their wails too. He remembered the first kiss he gave his wife, and the last. He remembered the first time he said hello to Arthor, and the last time he said goodbye. But none of that mattered now, he was close enough to strike the pale devil. He raised his blade and swung it down hard, but the Other caught it, as quick as the lightning that could be seen so often in the Stormlands, and Rickon's sword shattered. Cold hands gripped his throat and picked him up. Rickon stared into the Other's eyes, into the Other's evil features. _This is the Stranger in flesh, the worst demon from the deepest pit of the seven hells._ Rickon tried to fight, putting his fingers in the Other's eyes and punching it in its jaw, but it would not stop. Only now could he hear the screams of his brothers on the bottom of the Wall. Rickon was now hanging off the massive cliff made of ice, with only the Other's cold dead fingers keeping him from falling. Rickon said a quick prayer to his wife, to his children, to his friend Arthor, and to Westeros itself, before the Other let go and threw him off the Wall.


	2. Kyra I

Hey everyone, sorry it took so long, but here's the first (second) chapter to Winter is Here :D Also, I'd like to thank my friend Sam for helping me write this chapter, in fact he wrote a good amount of it. So if any of you have a tumblr, go follow his, from-under-the-weirwood-tree, (used to be a-tumblr-of-ice-and-fire), for the coolest asoiaf related thingies.

**Warning: **This will have spoilers from the 'A Song Of Ice and Fire' series.

* * *

**Note: **This story will have detailed descriptions of violence, cursing, and sexual situations, so please, if you are not in a mature age group, do not read.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or claim ownership of any ideas, settings, or characters from George RR Martin's 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series.

**Edit: **The northern and riverland host used to have 50,000 men and women but I'm changing it to 20,000 :D (New chapter will be uploaded tomorrow)

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**Kyra**

It had taken them almost seven long months to go from Winterfell to get here. The Reach was known for its beauty and fertility, but the seven-and-ten year old Kyra Stark never thought it would be as stunning as people said it was. Rolling green hills and vast fields filled with flowers of every color Kyra's grey eyes had ever seen. Red, purple, orange, yellow, white, even black flowers could be seen everywhere the northern host went. The many banners of the northern and riverland houses were dull and plain compared to the fields of the Reach. It was much warmer than she thought it would be. The sun was always bright and up, there had been no snow since the host had gotten here, and with the exception of a strong breeze that blew her long straight dark red hair once or twice a day, the Reach was unaffected by winter. Kyra knew that none of the Northern lords were used to this, they only knew ice and frost, not flowers and honey. Even Kyra's chestnut destrier was unaccustomed to the Reach's climate, often running for any kind of shade when Kyra was not watching him. Kyra had always wanted to live in the Reach when she was younger, to marry some handsome knight and give him beautiful children, but the war had changed all that. Many years ago her father crowned himself king and declared the north a kingdom once again. _He thought of himself as Robb Stark reborn. _The war had lasted two years, two years of bloodshed, raping, and death. _Even mother and Torrhen had been taken from the world._ William Lannister promised shelter and to negotiate, instead a fire had started in their living quarters and killed them both. _All too convenient for the Lord of Casterly Rock._

Kyra knew why Dyrek was going to Highgarden. Not because of the great tourney King Arthor had invited the lords of Westeros to, but for vengeance and to hear Lord William confess to the murder of their mother and brother. In truth, Kyra did not remember her mother Gwyneth, or brother, Torrhen but she did remember her mother's soft smile and her brother's haunting green eyes. The northern host had slowed considerably and Kyra thought that there was something wrong for a moment, until a young messenger ran to her.

"M'lady, your brother wishes to see you." The short, black haired boy with terrible pox scars on his face said to her.

"My brother? Do you know why?"

"No m'lady, but he's called for you."

"Thank you for telling me, I will go at once." And with that she rode off to find her brother.

It took her some time, in part due to the 20,000 men in the northern and riverland host, but also due to Kyra stopping and admiring the magnificence of the Reach. The party had stopped completely and made camp by the time Kyra found her brother.

She rode up a hill to see a small circular castle that Kyra recalled was known as the Ring, and it was the seat of House Roxton. It was made of old grey brick that seemed about as sturdy as glass. It was three stories, but the third story was broken down. The castle was surrounded by horses and drunken men-at-arms. There was only way to get in from what she could see, heavy oaken doors bordered by iron. Even before she opened the doors, she heard music and singing from within the keep. As she opened the doors, the sudden uproar of sound filled her ears, men were shouting, laughing, and arguing about every little thing. The castle seemed even smaller inside than it was outside. Northmen and Rivermen who had no place to sit were elbowing each other. The room was dimly lit, candles and a few torches outlined the wall. The many banners of the northern and riverland houses were hanging on the tall ancient brick walls of the castle. Five tables had been put up, four vertical and one horizontal. On the horizontal table sat Kyra's brother Dyrek. He had short auburn hair and blue eyes, as well as being clean-shaven. He was tall and muscled, and was twenty years of age. He had a strong jaw and a straight nose. He wore a grey wolf fur cloak and black doublet with many white direwolves stitched onto it. His bastard sword Longclaw was sheathed and attached to his belt. His wife, and Kyra's sister-by-law, Dacey Mallister was to his right, while Dacey's father, Ser Bryen, was to his left, eating some sort of tomato soup, and to Ser Bryen's left was Jon Mallister, his son. Dacey had long brown hair that she often wore in a braid and was the most freckly person Kyra had ever seen. Brown freckles were on her soft cheeks, on her small nose, her thin jaw, her forehead, hands, and most likely her privates, but Dyrek was the only one that could answer that question. She was not very tall, but not very short either, and was six-and-ten years of age. She had small breasts, but wide hips. She wore a purple and white dress with the silver eagle of Mallister surrounded by many grey direwolves stitched onto it. She had big blue eyes and a smile that could light up the room even in the darkest winter nights, Dacey was one of the most beautiful sights most men had ever seen.

"Kyra!" Dacey called, somehow silencing the lords in the room, "Come sit next to me!" The Northmen and Rivermen turned to look at Kyra, and Kyra suddenly felt her high cheekbones turn crimson. Not even at Winterfell was Kyra used to the stares of men and women who would come to visit, unlike Dyrek, who was anything but shy. She would often flee to the godswood at Winterfell to get away from people and only Dyrek would be able to get her out. The Northmen and Rivermen started talking once more while she was walking through the hall. Kyra made her way around the table and sat between Dacey and Ser Waymar Manderly. Ser Waymar was perhaps the most handsome man in the north. He had dark blond hair that ended right before his shoulders and a light blond beard. He was lean and tall, unlike his father Wilbert, who was known as the Whale of White Harbor to many men. Ser Waymar had an easy smile and an even easier way with words, and was three-and-twenty. He smiled at her and went back to talking to his younger brother Robb. Kyra looked to her left to see Dyrek looking at her with happiness in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

"I'm glad you could join us sister, I couldn't make this announcement without you hearing of it." Dyrek said to her.

_What announcement?_ Kyra thought before Dyrek stood from his high seat and raised a hand.

"My lords!" The hall was silenced. "I have received good news from my lady wife which I am proud to share with you." He looked at Dacey and smiled once more. "My lady has missed her moonblood by three weeks now, and I believe she has my child inside her." _Dyrek will be a father! _The northern and river lords erupted into a cheering so loud that it must have been heard in Highgarden itself. Cheers for House Stark were shouted. Cheers for Dyrek were shouted. Cheers for Dacey were shouted. Dacey's father had gotten up and hugged Dyrek so hard that Kyra thought all his bones would break. Kyra must have been smiling like a drunk idiot because Dacey was laughing at her. Kyra didn't care and hugged her as hard as Ser Bryen hugged Dyrek. She could hear the northern lords singing without a rhythm. River lords were raising their cups and jumping up onto the tables.

"You will be a great mother Dacey." Kyra told her sister-by-law.

"Thank you Kyra! You will be the greatest aunt Westeros has ever seen." They both laughed and talked about different names for the baby. Men and women both danced in honor of the announcement. Kyra danced with Lord Stannis Rayder and he went on about how he did not have a living wife and would be honored to marry Kyra. Kyra had said she would think about it and that seemed to shut the seven-and-thirty year old man up. Dacey was dancing with the seven-foot tall Lord Eddard Umber, though not really dancing as much as Lord Eddard carrying her on his massive shoulders that better resembled those of an ape. The dancing and drinking went on for a long time, with Kyra dancing with Ser Waymar which was really just Kyra getting red in the face again and being too smitten with the heir to White Harbor to say a word. She danced with Robb Manderly which was really just Robb being too smitten with Kyra to say a word. He was handsome for his age, four-and-ten, a younger version of his older brother, only with short dark blond hair and no facial hair to be seen. Next Kyra danced with Ser Bryen, his brown and grey goatee unable to hide the enormous grin on his face. She had not seen the lord of Seagard smile often, but this was different. Ser Bryen had a toned body, muscled in all the right places and his eyes were as blue as his daughter's and his son's. Ser Bryen had a uneven nose and shaggy brown and grey hair. _He must have been quite the handsome man in his youth._ She danced with a dozen other men and until finally she danced with Dyrek.

"Sister," he said, "Did I surprise you with my announcement?"

"You surprised everyone in the hall brother, I'm sure father will be delighted to hear about it." Kyra said to Dyrek.

"In time, for now, I am focused on other things." He said, his eyes looking into her own.

"You don't mean to wait do you? What could be more important than telling father you will have a child?"

"You know what." His smile had dropped, and a mixture of sadness and anger were in his eyes. _He still weeps for them._

She put her hand on his cheek. "Brother, they will pay, but you have to focus on your child, not on your vengeance."

"I do not even know if Dacey is pregnant, right now the Lannisters are my priority, my responsibility. I owe mother and Torrhen the heads of every Lannister I come across." He said with tears in his eyes. "I mean to have the blood of lions on Longclaw by the time we leave Highgarden."

"Of course she's pregnant, our moonblood does not just choose when it will arrive, especially not three weeks later than expected." She said to her brother, which resulted in him smiling at her. "Brother, stop thinking about the Lannisters, at least for right now. It's the time to celebrate, remember?"

"Stay here when the lords leave the hall, I mean to make another announcement to my most loyal supporters."

"Of course brother, anything for you." And so, after an hour or two, the feast ended and many of the lords and ladies had gone back to their tents, all but eleven: Dyrek, Kyra, Ser Bryen, Lord Eddard, Lord Wilbert, Ser Waymar, Lord Rickard Thenn, Maron Glover, Lady Arya Mormont, Lord Harrold Wull, and Lord Jason Flint.

"You wished to speak to us Lord Dyrek?" The robust Harrold Wull asked.

"I have. You nine are my most loyal supporters and I wish to know your thoughts on what I wish to do." Dyrek said.

"And what is it you wish to do?" The bald Lord Rickard asked.

"I wish to avenge my mother and my brother."

"You know you have my support, my lord." Ser Bryen said, and knelt to Dyrek.

"And mine as well, your brother and mother deserve justice." The fat mustachioed Lord Wilbert said, and his son knelt for him.

"None are as loyal to you as the mountain clans of the north." Harrold Wull said which made the thick bearded Jason Flint nod in agreement, and both knelt.

"I have sworn my fair share of oaths to your father, I will swear another oath to you my lord, the Thenn's swords are yours." Lord Rickard said, and knelt.

"I fought at Moat Cailin with your father, and killed many of those stag arse-holes, but stags don't fill up an Umber's belly half so well as lions do." The giant Eddard Umber said, running his massive hand through his unkempt shaggy brown hair, and knelt to Dyrek.

"Lord Dyrek, your intentions are good, and I will follow you no matter what, but what you mean to do could start a war once more, it could be the cause of many deaths through out the realm." The old clean shaven Maron Glover said.

"_CRAVEN!_ The Lannisters deserve nothing but spikes through their throats and piss in their mouths." Lord Eddard Umber bellowed, his spittle hitting everyone in the room.

"Maron is right, as much as we want vengeance, we should think of the innocents that will be affected by this, the children." Said Lady Arya Mormont, the most fierce woman Kyra had ever met, and she was very far from being a lady.

"Torrhen was twelve when he was burned alive, he had not even wanted to go," Dyrek said, his voice breaking, "Should I just excuse the crime of William Lannister? He not only killed a child and a mother, but he broke the guest right."

"Then let the gods punish him and his accursed family. The Freys broke guest right as well, yet they are loyal to your father and you, and your mother was a Frey."

"Thank you my lords, for your advice, I will consider all you have had to say, but know this, if a war comes, I will make sure we are not on the Lannisters' side." Dyrek said. Kyra felt the rage stirring up within her brother. She hated seeing him like this. Full of hatred. She knew it would only bring bad things for the family, and the North.


End file.
